


Morning

by Ramadiii



Series: Wescoast and Hatch [3]
Category: Roadies (TV)
Genre: Coffee, F/M, Morning Routines, Only ones awake, Tour Bus, Yoga, bunk beds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramadiii/pseuds/Ramadiii
Summary: Mornings on a tour bus are always special, some are just extra special.
Relationships: Wesley "Wes" Mason/OFC Olivia "Hatch" Nelson
Series: Wescoast and Hatch [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972459
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Morning

Hatch gets up earlier than everyone else on the bus. She doesn't know why, maybe she's still used to the crazy sleep schedule she had with Between the Diamonds, or maybe she's just wired differently but she's been tossing and turning in her bunk for over an hour and she finally gives up.  
She climbs out of her box, trying to keep as quiet as possible as she moves to the front of the bus, stretching out her back before she rolls down into the start of her sun salutation.  
She's no yogi but with all the heavy lifting and stress of the job she's found it helps to keep her body limber and her mind clear. Doing it on a moving bus just adds a fun balance element to it all.  
She runs through a quick sequence before her body feels awake enough, grabbing an apple before sitting down with her phone and earbuds to finish listening to her book, Excellent Women by Barbara Pym.T

The time alone is a luxury, a rarity, and she heaves a deep breath, getting herself centered for another day at work.

Some mornings she gets herself a cup of coffee and goes upfront to chat with Gooch until the rest of the bus awakens, but today she'd like to not hear her own voice for as long as possible.

Some days are like that, she doesn't necessarily need silence, just the absence of herself in the moment all she needs for her mind to settle peacefully.  
It takes just over an hour before the bus shows signs of life, in which time Hatch has finished her book and started a new one. She's just passed the first chapter of Agatha Christie's Murder at the Vicarage when a body slides into the seat across from her.

"Morning, Hatchet." Wes mutters, movements sluggish as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, hair sticking out every which way making him look like a very tired porcupine.  
"Morning, Wes." She greets him back, pausing the book and taking her earbuds out. "Sleep alright?"  
"Too short, I wanna be buried in blankets and pillows." He grumbles, watching her get up to put some coffee on.   
"I'm sure that can be arranged." She says, smiling softly at him as she arranges two cups for them on the little counter as she waits for the brew. "I'll just send Winston in and you guys can form a snuggle pit together."  
"Not gonna lie, a snuggle pit sounds pretty good right about now." He chuckles as he stretches those long limbs of his, smile remarkably unguarded first thing in the morning and it takes actual effort to tear her eyes from it.  
"Right? It's like a mosh pit but sedetary and less dangerous." She gives it a thought. "So unfortunately Winston would hate it."  
"Dang it, you're right." Wes snaps his fingers at her point, not loud enough to wake the others. "What if we just... leave him at an actual mosh pit?"  
"Hm, does he have a weapon?"  
"Probably not."  
"Then I don't think you'd get into too much trouble from it, anything that doesn't end with a charge of manslaughter should be fine." She chuckles, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into the waiting mugs before handing him one. "Here you go, sir. Sorry it won't be as good as the stuff you make."  
"No worries, we can't all be coffee making gods." He says with a dramatic flair befitting a soap opera actor, blowing on the hot beverage before taking a sip. "It's good."  
"You're a liar." She giggles watching him crinkle his nose at the slight off taste. "But I appreciate you trying to be nice."  
"I may be a morning grump, but I'm not a jerk." He says, taking a swig of the coffee like one would a shot of hard liquor, making the face and everything.  
"You're certainly not, Wescoast." She can't help but laugh at his pain and is thrilled when he joins her, their cheer likely waking the rest of the crew up but hey, it's time for them to get up anyway. "And I quite like the morning grump." 


End file.
